


I Think I Found Myself a Cheerleader

by superkitten



Category: The Bold Type
Genre: Comedy, F/F, Fluff, Mild Language, Spoilers for the Season 3 Trailer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-10-27 08:18:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17763158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superkitten/pseuds/superkitten
Summary: Jane is always right there...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I saw the trailer for season 3 of The Bold Type this afternoon and this story appeared in my brain, demanding to be written. I don't even know what this is - it's almost 4 in the morning here. It's a silly, fluffy one-shot, but I wanted to incorporate a few elements from the trailer, including "New Guy". I already hate him. Do you hate him, too? Sound off in the comments down below.

“Ten o’clock— that guy’s totally checking you out,” said Kat, nudging Jane’s arm.

Taking a sip of her drink and discreetly shifting in her seat, Jane saw a man sitting near the end of the bar. He had a suit on, and while it looked expensive and perfectly tailored, resembling something Richard Hunter would wear, he also had nearly shoulder-length hair and a relaxed, carefree posture, giving off major "Prepster" vibes. Jane wasn’t particularly intrigued, nor was she discouraged, by what she saw, and as soon as he caught her eyes, he wasted no time getting up and making his way to where she was with Sutton and Kat - her two friends making themselves scarce right away.

“I couldn’t help but notice you staring at me from across the room.”

“Now that’s… quite the opening line,” said Jane with a small laugh. He’d barely said a few words to her but things weren’t exactly promising. “That’s only because I was told _you_ were staring at me first,” she explained.

“I’m Patrick,” he said, extending his hand.

Jane briefly considered replying with _“And I’m not interested”_ , but deciding to be polite, she told him her name, and shook his hand.

She was in no mood for small talk, but let him buy her a fresh drink. As he gave the bartender her order,  Jane took the opportunity to inconspicuously text Sutton and Kat to get their butts over there and rescue her. Until they arrived, however, she was stuck listening to him tell her _all_ about himself. 

“— I mostly do freelance work, but recently scored a gig with one of the biggest publishing groups in the city—“

“Hmmm,” mumbled Jane, raising her eyebrows, as she sipped her drink.

“I’m actually starting a new job soon at a prestigious magazine—“

“Oh. I work for a magazine as well—“ Jane started saying, but was cut off by the guy - whose name she’d already forgotten -, who clearly liked to hear himself talk. “I can’t tell you which magazine it is, as my job hasn’t been officially announced yet and it’s all very hush-hush,” he explained, as if Jane had been dying to know. “But let me just say that the big heads were looking for someone to shake things up, and, well… that’s what I do.”

“And how exactly are you ‘shaking things up?’”

“Well, the thing is, the market is saturated with old magazines, run by old fashioned people, with old fashioned ideas. No wonder print is going out of business. Let’s face it, the time for dinosaurs like Miranda Priestly, Anna Wintour, and Jacqueline Carlyle has passed.”

The mention of Jacqueline’s name in such a negative context stirred something ugly in Jane’s belly. “Okay, let me stop you right there. Last I checked, Scarlet’s print numbers were on the rise.”

“You know your stuff,” he acknowledged, a tinge impressed, but not enough to ask Jane anything about it. Before she could comment, he continued, “Be that as it may, that’s not where the future is, and that’s where magazines like Scarlet are going wrong—”

“I don’t know where you’re getting your information, but Jacqueline Carlyle is doing a tremendous job as editor-in-chief of Scarlet—“

“If by ’tremendous job’ you mean making sure the magazine tanks in five years time, then sure—“

Jane let out an incredulous laugh. She had had it with this guy. “She’s amazing, not only as writer and editor-in-chief but as a person—”

“How she is as a person is irrelevant to how she’s running her magazine to the ground.”

“Again, how can you say that when Scarlet has solid numbers after decades in the business? It is thanks to her dedication, to the staff she has put together, to the fact she inspires the people who work for her every day—“

“Are you on her PR team, by any chance?”, he asked then, clearly amused by Jane’s defense of Jacqueline.

“I’m someone who couldn’t help but notice you cited three women as ‘dinosaurs’ whose 'time has passed'.”

“It was a simple case of ‘if the shoe fits’—“, he deflected, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

“Yeah, it’s not like you had other, much better examples to choose from. Like Men’s Vogue, which folded with Jay Fielden at the helm after three years, or Details, which commemorated its final issue in 2015 with yet another man in charge—“

Now she’d caught his attention. 

And it all went downhill from there.

By the time in their “conversation” the words “#metoo”, “time’s up” and “feminazi” left the dude’s mouth, Jane was seeing red, and was no longer responsible for her actions.

* * *

“They chose _a man_ to run Digital at a women’s magazine.” Jane still couldn’t believe it.

“Look, all I know is that he has an impressive resume and charmed the pants off of the board,” explained Kat, who’d already been briefed along with the other department heads about the man’s arrival. Now most of the staff was waiting in the bullpen for Jacqueline to arrive and introduce the new guy.

“What’s his name again?”, asked Jane to Kat, who was standing next to her, but before Kat could answer, Jacqueline arrived.

“Everyone, I’d like to introduce you to Patrick Duchand—“ As soon as the man stepped out from behind Jacqueline and Jane saw him, she froze, immediately dropping her coffee cup on the floor, drawing his - and everyone’s - attention.

He looked confused for a second, but then broke into a knowing smile, even as Jane panicked expression grew even more panicked. Sutton nudged her with an elbow to her side, and Jane managed to put her game face back on.

Luckily for her, Jacqueline didn’t miss a beat and continued with her introduction. After a few motivational-slash-gracious words from the New Guy — _seriously, she’d just heard his name, why couldn’t she remember?_ \- and a round of polite applause, everyone went back to work. Jane was kneeling down on the floor to collect her cup,  Sutton and Kat having already left for the fashion closet, when she noticed a presence approaching her. Straightening up, she saw New Guy.

“Hello, there.” Jane wanted to punch the smug smile off of his face, but the calculating look he was giving her was also scaring her a bit. _What was he gonna do to her after that night where—_

“Everything ok, Jane?” Jacqueline asked, having made her way to where she was standing with New Guy.

“Uh, yeah, I just had a… clumsy moment,” she explained with a nervous laugh.

“Patrick, this is Jane Sloan, one of our most promising young writers here at Scarlet.”

“Huh. I see it’s quite the mutual admiration society you have going on here,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets. Jacqueline’s eyes narrowed and her head tilted, but before she could ask him about his comment he was off, heading towards Cleo, who was a few feet away, to shake her hand. _Talk about a match made in hell_ , Jane thought as she looked at the pair. Turning towards Jacqueline, she gave her a small closed mouth smile and then she was off too, before her boss could ask _her_ that had been about.

* * *

If Jane thought New Guy would listen to her unspoken pleas to leave it alone and pretend they didn’t know each other until he set foot at Scarlet, she’d been deluded.

The writing staff had been called for a meeting with Jacqueline and Patrick, the latter deciding on the best story ideas for the dot com. The hour went by uneventfully, mostly because Jane had avoided eye contact with him the whole time, focusing only on her boss and colleagues. That her pitch had been one of the chosen ones had been a nice surprise, and Jane felt like maybe, just maybe, she was home free. 

She was getting up to leave when she heard New Guy tell Jacqueline, who he had just been discussing Jane’s story with, “—just have your cheerleader e-mail it to me.”

Jacqueline’s eyes immediately found Jane’s, who quickly gathered her things and left, once again, before she could be asked anything.

* * *

 

“You wanted to see me?” Jane asked at the door to Jacqueline’s office.

“Jane,” she said, organizing some papers on her desk, “Come in. Sit.”

“What is this about?” To say Jane was nervous was an understatement.

With a sigh, Jacqueline didn’t beat around the bush. “Patrick has made a couple of strange comments involving you— and me. I was wondering if you knew anything about this.”

“Have you asked him?”

“I’d rather ask you.”

Jane tried shrugging first, puffing out her cheeks and letting the air out slowly. As Jacqueline kept staring at her, she tried words next. “I mean… who knows why anyone does or says anything?”, she said with a nervous laugh.

“Reporters…” Jacqueline said to that. She said it slowly, condescendingly, in a way that would be both insulting and humiliating if Jane couldn’t easily detect the friendly amusement behind it. “Because they ask questions and… you know… get answers…”

“Right.”

A beat later—

“New Guy can’t fire writers, can he?”, Jane quickly asked, fear evident both in her voice and in the pained expression on her face.

Immediately closing her laptop and leaning forward on her desk, Jacqueline cut to the chase. “Jane, what the hell happened between the two of you?

Sighing, she said. “We’ve met before.”

“No shit.”

“We were at a bar. I didn’t know he was… New Guy— what’s his name again?”, she asked with a frown.

“Patrick.”

“Patrick, right.”

“Yes, I understand how that’d be a difficult name to remember.”

Snorting, Jane quickly lowered her head for a moment before meeting Jacqueline’s eyes again. Jacqueline had a smirk of her own on her face, and, arms folded over her desk, was patiently waiting for Jane to explain what had happened. 

 “Anyway, I may have said some things to him that weren’t exactly…” shifting in her seat, glancing to her left instead of straight ahead at Jacqueline, she finished, “nice?”

“Because…”

“Because… he may have said some things that were not particularly…. flattering?”

“About me,” Jacqueline stated, instead of asking.

"Yes,” finally admitted Jane with a nod of her head. 

“And you took it personally.”

Taking a deep breath, Jane launched into a rant, finally meeting Jacqueline’s eyes. “I know you don’t need _me_ , of all people, to defend you or fight your battles for you but I had to set him straight—“

“Jane—“

"He was an asshole, ok? If you’d heard some of the things he said— I couldn’t help myself.” Jane let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

“Your loyalty is… very much appreciated,” Jacqueline said with a smile. Her tone was so soft and so sweet, it took Jane by surprise. It almost made her melt into a puddle on the floor. 

Then Jacqueline opened her laptop once again and started typing.

“And?”

“And?” Jacqueline parroted Jane’s question back to her with a small frown, not looking up from her screen.

“I— I don’t know,” said Jane. “I was expecting a scolding or—“

"Well, now you know who ‘New Guy’ is I trust you’ll exercise more restraint in the future?”

“Uh, yes…”

“Then that’s it. Unless you’d actually _like_ for me to give you a scolding—“ pondered Jacqueline, eyebrows knitted. “Of course, if you did, it would defeat its purpose—”

Letting out a noise that was something of a cross between a screech and a yelp, Jane almost choked on her saliva. As far as she knew, Jacqueline had no idea Jane had a _“big_ leeeeeesbian _crush”_ on her, as Sutton had put it when Jane told her about her confusing feelings for her boss. The fact the woman had quite accidentally stumbled upon a kink of hers that had caused her one or two — _maybe ten_ — restless nights recently, well…

Jane was just about to forgo all her pride and beg to leave the room when she heard someone behind her announce, quite obnoxiously, “Knock knock.”

“Patrick,” Jacqueline said in greeting, a question clear in her voice. He didn’t even wait before entering the room and saying, “The tall guy is not out front, I hope you don’t mind me barging in.” 

“What can I do for you?” asked Jacqueline, her voice indicating that yes, she did mind, but polite nonetheless. Jane was taking mental notes. If recent events had taught her anything was that her diplomacy skills were severely lacking.

“I was hoping we could reschedule our 915 tomorrow to 945, something came up.”

“I’ll have Andrew get back to you on that,” Jacqueline said, her attention once again on the work in front of her.

“Sure…” he replied. He didn’t sound too pleased - no doubt having expected for Jacqueline to be more accommodating. Jane couldn’t see his face, as he was standing slightly behind her, a little to her right, but _he_ noticed _her_ , because he said, “I’ll leave you to your work. Jacqueline… Jacqueline’s cheerleader—“

“The name is Jane,” she said, turning in her chair to look at him.

“Right, Jane. Jane Sloan. Now I know who to send my dry cleaning bill,” he said, making a finger gun and aiming it at her before leaving the office.

Jane watched him leave - watched him until he passed all the desks in her line of sight and disappeared from view.  Taking a breath, she stalled, hoping that when she turned back around she’d find Jacqueline still staring at her computer screen, or maybe busy with the papers on her desk—

— but of course, what she saw instead was Jacqueline leaning back against her chair, arms crossed, head cocked to the side, staring at Jane and waiting for an explanation.

Clearing her throat, she said, with a small voice, “I may have also… thrown my drink on his face.” 

Jacqueline closed her eyes and shook her head, biting her lips to keep from laughing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one with glasses and coping mechanisms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this was supposed to be a one-shot, but I came up with this scene and since I needed a break from the angst of IVV, here you go! I hope you guys enjoy.

“New Guy has it out for me!” Jane announced as she barged into Jacqueline’s office that night, waving a bunch of pages in her hand.

Her head snapping up at the door, Jacqueline closed her book before resting her forearms on her desk with a sigh.

“Why yes, hello to you too, Jane. No, this isn’t a bad time, come on in…”

Opting to ignore her boss’ sarcasm, as she was too riled up to bother with niceties, Jane fully entered the office and stood in the middle of the room, staring at Jacqueline, breathing heavily. She’d just been about to continue her tirade when she noticed something that made her mouth snap shut.

“Something wrong?” Jacqueline asked with a frown.

“Since when do you wear glasses?”

“Since I forgot to renew my contact lenses and had a lot of reading to catch up on?”

“Oh.”

“You were saying something…” Jacqueline said, trying to get Jane to talk.

A couple of moments later, Jane shook her head, remembering why she was there, and resumed her ranting.“New Guy called me into his office a little while ago to give me _this_ —“ Jane said, taking a couple more steps towards Jacqueline’s desk and handing her what turned out to be the draft of her article for the dot com, which Jane had e-mailed him two days prior. A cursory glance showed Jacqueline the pages were riddled with annotations on the margins and that several passages were either underlined or circled in bright red ink. A few paragraphs had large X's all over them, and Jacqueline pulled a face if to say "yikes".

Jane paced the floor in front of Jacqueline’s desk as she waited for her boss to finish reading her work - and New Guy’s corrections - and give her her verdict.

“Well, I can’t say I agree with _everything_ he says here…” Jacqueline said finally, removing her glasses and throwing them on the desk. “But nothing stands out as... unreasonable. You do realize it’s well within his purview as editor of digital to critique your work, don’t you?”

Jane had not seen that coming. Opening and closing her mouth like a fish, she finally settled on, “B—but does he have to be such a di— a _jerk_ about it? He called me a child, Jacqueline. The man is two years older than me.”

“In his defense, if I can call it that, I don’t think Patrick knows how _not_ to be a dick,” argued Jacqueline. Then she got up from her seat and opened the cabinet behind her desk, where she retrieved a bottle of whiskey and a couple of glasses.

Handing Jane her newly filled glass and pouring herself a drink as well, Jacqueline nudged Jane towards the couch, where she dropped down in a huff, before taking a seat next to her.

Jane started mulling over her conversation with Patrick then, and her unpleasant thoughts must have shown on her face, because she could feel Jacqueline sit up straighter next to her and ask, “That’s all there is it to it, right?”

When Jane turned to look at her and asked, “Huh?”,Jacqueline continued, “He’s giving you a hard time with your article, he’s not being… inappropriate or making you feel… uncomfortable in any other way?”

The piercing look Jacqueline was giving her was enough to make Jane gulp. Her eyes were dark and stormy, and Jane had to admit - there was a small part of her _(ok, maybe not so small)_ that’d pay good money to see her unleash holy hell on the guy.

But she’d never lie about something like that, of course. “No, he hasn’t been inappropriate.” Despite Jane’s own misconceptions about his motives early on, she was now confident the man was just an asshole in general, not a creep in particular - even if he did seem to revel in annoying Jane on a regular basis, ever since that night at the bar.

Jacqueline kept her intense gaze trained on Jane for a few moments, as if gauging her honesty, before relaxing and turning her attention back to her drink.

After sipping from her own glass until it was almost empty, Jane broke the silence to ask something that had been nagging at her for the past fifteen minutes or so. “You said… you didn’t agree with everything he wrote. Does that mean you agreed with… _some_ of it?” As she asked the question, Jane hoped she didn’t sound like the wounded puppy she felt in that moment.

“Yes.” 

“With what?” Jane asked with a frown, shifting in her seat. She had been happy with her work, so she couldn’t help but be a little defensive.

Shooting Jane a look, Jacqueline set down her glass before moving to her desk and retrieving Jane’s article and her glasses.

Going over the article once again, she announced. “The third and fourth paragraphs — you were ranting."

Jane became a little distracted by the glasses sliding down the bridge of Jacqueline’s nose as she read, but she was still focused enough to argue, “It wasn’t a rant, it was a raw, passionate defense of—“

“It was a rant, Jane.”

As Jane sulked, Jacqueline sighed and explained. “Sometimes you lose your perspective when you have a strong, personal view on a subject. We’ve been here before — _‘I love everything about my best friend except her gun’_ ring any bells?”

“So he’s right, is what you’re saying?”

“In this particular instance, yes.”

Jane stared into her glass, twirling it in her hand, and then she nodded, knowing in her heart of hearts Jacqueline was right. It was a bitter pill to swallow, and she didn’t trust New Guy’s opinion, but she did trust hers.

Jacqueline continued, resting a hand on Jane’s knee. “Don’t give him a reason to make your life at Scarlet difficult, Jane. And don’t let your... personal feelings keep you from learning. Be open to the criticism, take what you feel is warranted and ignore the rest if possible.”

“I’ll do my best,” Jane said then, pressing her lips into a thin line, her eyes meeting Jacqueline’s once again.

“Good,” she said encouragingly, lightly squeezing Jane’s knee before removing her hand from her leg. Jane missed the warmth immediately, and almost let out an involuntary grunt in protest. 

Clearing her throat, she said, “From now on I’ll just… sit there and smile and nod as I picture a bulldozer smashing his head in like a watermelon as he proceeds to shred my articles to pieces.”

“If that’s what works for you,” Jacqueline deadpanned.“We all have our coping mechanisms.”

Jane was reminded then that she wasn’t the only one forced to put up with the guy. His taking over Digital hadn’t been Jacqueline’s choice, as she’d suffered a demotion when he was brought on board. Jane’s article on Safford’s healthcare coverage for female reproductive issues had been the final nail in her coffin, and Jane felt terrible about it. Shaking her head, she decided to lighten the mood, as she wasn’t in any condition to open that particular can of worms just then.

“What’s yours?”

“Hmmm?”, Jacqueline asked.

“Your coping mechanism.”

“Cardio and whiskey.”

As Jane nodded, Jacqueline said, “Not necessarily in that order, and not in combination, of course, because that would just be… dangerous”, she added, shaking her head slightly before taking another sip of her drink.

“You walk on that treadmill of yours in four-inch heels regularly - I’d say you like to live dangerously.”

“Maybe I do, but I have my limits.”

“So that’s where you draw the line - at only one contributing cause of death per activity at a time?”

“Makes for a reasonable rule of thumb, don’t you think?”

Jane laughed at that and watched as Jacqueline smiled warmly at her. She knew the alcohol was helping her mood, but she also knew it was mostly the company she had to thank for that - her boss could make Jane feel a thousand times better in a matter of minutes. It was Jacqueline’s superpower, she mused.

 

* * *

 

About an hour, and four or five glasses of whiskey between the two of them later, Jacqueline broke the cozy silence with a casual question. “Can I ask you something?”

“Hmmm,” Jane mumbled in acquiescence, her head resting against the back of the couch, her eyes closed. She knew she should get moving soon, but she was just too happy and comfortable to even think about getting up.

“What’s New Guy’s name?”

Jane opened an eye then and turned her head sideways to look at Jacqueline, who was staring at her with one eyebrow raised and a smirk on her lips, in a silent dare.

Jane broke into a wide and knowing smile. “See, I know you think you got me there, but I’ll have you know I actually know his name.” Jane was really pleased with herself and didn’t even try to hide it.

“You do, huh?” Jacqueline pressed. She sounded skeptical and amused. Jane loved this playful side of hers.

“Yes, I discovered a trick. You see, I don’t remember his last name, not really…” Jane started, pointing with the hand that was holding her glass. “BUT… I do know it kinda sounds like 'douchebag'.”

Jacqueline started laughing then, freely, throwing her head back, making Jane laugh as well. “No, hear me out… for some reason - I really don’t know why -, the douchebag part makes it easier for me to remember the Patrick part…”

“Oh my god,” said Jacqueline, shaking her head.

“Of course, the tricky part is stopping at Patrick and not saying ‘douchebag’ right after. Which is why I tend to stick to New Guy around the office. Not ideal, but...”

“Probably for the best,” agreed Jacqueline with a nod, her eyes sparkling, as she chuckled and finished off her drink.

When Jacqueline set down her glass with a heavy sigh, Jane knew their time together was coming to an end. She wanted to protest, have Jacqueline pour her another glass or two as they talked about important things, like her career and difficulty taking criticism, and also silly, silly things, like the fact she couldn’t remember the new editor’s name to save her life.

She also wanted to say to Jacqueline how hot she looked in her reading glasses, and ask her in what other ways she liked to live dangerously. With her blood warmed by alcohol, the lights on low and no one else around, she felt that she might just be brave enough to ask, and was confident enough in the response she’d get.

_Alas…_

“It’s been fun, but I think we should get going if we want to make it back here bright and early in the morning,” Jacqueline said just then, getting up from the couch. As Jane started getting up herself, she heard the woman ask, turning to her, “Want a ride?”

 “Sure,” Jane replied with a smile. How could she say no to another twenty plus minutes in Jacqueline’s company?

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Jane had been in the lobby at Safford Tower waiting for the elevator with Sutton and Kat when she got a text.

It was from Jacqueline.

_“I almost introduced him as Patrick Douchebag to someone today and it’s all your fault.”_

Jane let out a laugh, earning curious looks from her friends and other people around. “What’s so funny?”, asked Kat.

Ignoring the question, Jane typed, _“My impact…”_ and pressed send. When she got an eye roll emoji in response, she laughed once again.

And then became serious.

She couldn’t believe it, but she had New Guy to thank for… all of this? Whatever _this_ was…

After putting her phone in her pocket she looked up in time to see Sutton and Kat staring at her with their eyebrows raised. “Care to share with the rest of the class?” asked Sutton.

“Nah, thanks, I’m good.”

Knowing her friends would pester her for the rest of day wanting to know what that had been all about, she smirked. And when she saw Patrick later that day she wasn't even annoyed.

Bring it on, New Guy, she wanted to say.

She had discovered a new coping mechanism to deal with him - and it was called Jacqueline Carlyle.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was also inspired by Supergirl's episode 1x11 Strange Visitor From Another Planet, that saw Adam, Cat Grant's son, referring to Kara as Cat's cheerleader. I miss season 1 of Supergirl SO. MUCH.


End file.
